


led zepellin

by truth_seeker_1789



Series: Suptober 2K19 [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bars, Bobby Singer Mentioned - Freeform, Cleaning, Ellen Harvelle Mentioned, Gen, Harvelle's Roadhouse (Supernatural), Jo Harvelle Lives, Jo Runs The Roadhouse, Reader Is a Student, Research, Studying, Suptober (Supernatural), Suptober 2019 (Supernatural), The Winchesters Mentioned, charlie bradbury mentioned - Freeform, vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 04:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truth_seeker_1789/pseuds/truth_seeker_1789
Summary: you entered the roadhouse on a whim. you found more than one reason to keep coming back.





	led zepellin

*

While the Roadhouse served primarily as a Hunters' bar, you had come to claim it as your personal pedantic paradise.

First appearances hinted at animosity, a behemoth towering over you. When you first entered the dark room, taking in maple columns and recently refinished flooring, you found yourself more at ease, and soon enough your initial visit was ending with a familial warmth you had not anticipated, a standing offer to swing by anytime.

You had presumed the offer to be a mere offer of hospitality, the casual invitation of a retailer to their consumer. During your second visit, however, the lithe blonde whose name you had already forgotten had guided you to a private table, the tall supports on either side of the booth allowing you your necessary quiet, with just enough murmuring of other patrons to keep firmly rooted in the present.

With another successful night of studying in, you secretly vowed to visit as often as possible, your tired yet contented gaze following the retreating figure of the establishment's young owner.

Each visit after found the two of you growing more acquainted, and on those rare days when you were the only other person in the bar, she would join you, spending hours discussing the paranormal, teaching you about creatures and beings far beyond basic human understanding, sharing stories of her heroic father.

She grew to know you as well, taking an interest in your books, learning your class schedule and your favourite drinks. Sometimes, you would come in to find food waiting for you, the steam off of freshly prepared pretzels a welcome sight after trudging through autumnal sludge and showers.

Your grades had improved dramatically since your study sessions had commenced, the simple serenity of the dark oak countertops and the velveteen greens of the billiards tables wrapping their secure familiarity around you. There were rarely disruptions here, many of the Hunters passing through keeping their business quiet, sharing hushed stories and lore over tawny bottles and liquid gold.

For the first time in some time, the bar was empty, save for you and Jo. It seemed that the approach of Samhain often brought with it more supernatural activity, demons and ghosts doing their damnedest to breach the void and wreak havoc among the living.

The Hunters you had grown most familiar with-The Winchesters, Ms. Bradbury, Mr. Singer, Mr. Ross and his partner Mr. Lassiter, even Jo's own mother- had become more like friends in recent months, and it was slightly disconcerting that you may miss them before you went home for Fall Break.

Your hostess had any sense of discontent dispersing soon enough, humming along to Led Zeppelin as she worked on inventory, the familiar rhythm of classic rock and tinkling glass and sharpening blades a persistent beat to which you could study.

Jo's voice sometimes still carved its way past your concentration, the vaguely discordant refrains evoking a small grin as you once more turned to watch her work, enraptured by modest revolutions and the slight swaying as she simply continued to be.

You were lost in the whimsy of it all- the halo cast over her shoulders from the led strip behind the bar, the tug on her white t-shirt as her arms moved from one task to the next, the lingering scent of your beer cheese and soda.

The moment was so surreal, so pure and innocuously humane.

The Roadhouse had become your paradise, providing you the extraordinary glimpse into what Heaven must surely be.

*

**Author's Note:**

> This one was more difficult to assemble than anticipated. I knew I wanted to write something about someone finding the Roadhouse a good place to study (I'm one of those ppl who focuses really well in bars, idk why), and it involving Jo dancing.
> 
> But getting the words to actually formulate correctly proved quite a challenge.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
